FIC: Bruised & Broken
Title: Bruised And Broken
Author: Cassie (badfalcon)
Fandom: RPS - Kane
Categories: Steve Carlson/Christian Kane, angst
Rating: PG-13
Thanks to: You, for reading this. celtprincess13, as ever, for the beta.
Disclaimer: Steve Carlson and Christian Kane are real people, and the events in this story are just that - fictional, figments of my sick and twisted imagination. Hell, call it a fantasy if it makes you feel better. Whatever. No rumours should be started in regards to any events in these works of fiction. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and no money is being made out of it.
Notes: Written for the angst_bingo prompt of lost
Summary: Deciding to take a little break from their hectic schedule has dire consequences for Christian and Steve
An involuntary groan escaped Christian at the bright whiteness surrounding him, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut again. A wave of nausea crashed through him and he gripped the steering wheel until it passed, only that caused even more pain to shoot through his right forearm and wrist, making him cry out. He clutched his arm to his chest even as he slid back down into the blessed oblivion of darkness.
The next time Christian opened his eyes it was dark and the debilitating nausea had passed. His entire body ached and his right wrist was in agony - he tried to move it down from his chest but the movement had him whimpering and holding it even tighter. He swore under his breath - definitely broken, then. He shook his head to clear the remaining cobwebs but that just made the world spin. He clenched his teeth, waiting for it to pass. What the fuck had happened? He looked out of the windshield into the darkness, trying to piece it all together. He was in the truck, his truck. It was dark and there were trees... He moaned; body tensing as he remembered the crash, swerving, the truck coming off the road, crashing through the embankment.
“Fuck... fuck... Steve?!” There was no reply and Christian’s stomach clenched. He shifted in his seat to face the passenger seat, shaking Steve’s shoulder gently. A soft moan was his answer and Christian released the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Steve? Oh God... Steve...Hey, darlin’, I need you to wake up, can you do that for me?”
“’m awake,” came Steve’s slurred reply although he didn’t move and Christian couldn’t tell if he’d opened his eyes or not. “Chris...” His voice broke with a groan. “The fuck happened?”
“We came off the road. Are you OK, are you hurt, can you move?”
The pained, guttural cry that came from Steve as he tried to move all but broke Christian’s heart.
“No,” Steve admitted softly when he’d caught his breath. He looked over at Christian. “I’m stuck. I can’t pull my ankle free and there’s something wrong with my hip.” He reached out for Christian, squeezing his hand. “Your head... Chris, you’re bleeding.” He wiped the blood from Christian’s temple. “How badly are you hurt?”
“I’m OK. My head hurts.” Christian snorted. “My everywhere hurts. Got a broken wrist.
“We’re screwed.” Steve exhaled sharply, smacking his head back against the headrest. “We didn’t bring our phones. We didn’t tell anyone where we were going. We’re in the middle of nowhere. It’s dark. I’m stuck. And it’s snowing. Fucking great.”
“We ain’t dead yet, son!” Christian snapped. “So don’t you go fuckin' givin' up me on like this, y’hear me?” He smacked the heel of his hand on the steering wheel, barely resisting the urge to hit Steve. “We came past a town just ‘fore we came off the road. I’ll get back there and I’ll call for help.”
Steve nodded and wrapped his arms around himself. “Yeah, ok,” he said; his tone clearly showing he didn’t agree with Christian.
“I ain’t letting you die out here, Steve,” Christian promised. He leaned over and kissed Steve gently. “Ain’t gonna happen, no matter how much you seem to think it is. You’re gonna be just fine. We both are.” He cupped Steve’s face in his good hand, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “I’ll be as quick as I can but I need you to do somethin’ for me while I’m gone. I need you t stay awake. Can you do that for me?”
“I’ll try,” Steve whispered. He shivered from the cold and Christian narrowed his eyes.
“Should have something blankets in the back. Gotta get you warm. Snow and night and shock, shit like that’ll fuck you up.” Christian fought first the seatbelt, then the door but eventually was able to climb out of the truck. The world swam as he stood up. He clutched at the door but his knees buckled, sending him to the ground. “Fuck, “he muttered, trying to figure out how the fuck to hold his wrist, stomach and head all at the same time.
“Christian! Fuck! Chris!” Steve yelled, panicking. He struggled again to free himself, all but screaming in agony from the pain in his ankle and hip. He doubled over his seat, fighting the urge to vomit. “Chris! Talk to me! The fuck’s going on? Are you OK?”
“I’m fine!” Christian called back. “Just a bit dizzy, that’s all.” Hanging on to the door, he pulled himself to his feet. Holding on to the truck, he grabbed the blankets from the back and handed them to Steve. “You try and stay awake and I’m gonna go see if I can’t get us some help. I’ll be back soon, darlin’, I promise.”
~El Fin~
Author: Cassie (badfalcon)
Fandom: RPS - Kane
Categories: Steve Carlson/Christian Kane, angst
Rating: PG-13
Thanks to: You, for reading this. celtprincess13, as ever, for the beta.
Disclaimer: Steve Carlson and Christian Kane are real people, and the events in this story are just that - fictional, figments of my sick and twisted imagination. Hell, call it a fantasy if it makes you feel better. Whatever. No rumours should be started in regards to any events in these works of fiction. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and no money is being made out of it.
Notes: Written for the angst_bingo prompt of lost
Summary: Deciding to take a little break from their hectic schedule has dire consequences for Christian and Steve
An involuntary groan escaped Christian at the bright whiteness surrounding him, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut again. A wave of nausea crashed through him and he gripped the steering wheel until it passed, only that caused even more pain to shoot through his right forearm and wrist, making him cry out. He clutched his arm to his chest even as he slid back down into the blessed oblivion of darkness.
The next time Christian opened his eyes it was dark and the debilitating nausea had passed. His entire body ached and his right wrist was in agony - he tried to move it down from his chest but the movement had him whimpering and holding it even tighter. He swore under his breath - definitely broken, then. He shook his head to clear the remaining cobwebs but that just made the world spin. He clenched his teeth, waiting for it to pass. What the fuck had happened? He looked out of the windshield into the darkness, trying to piece it all together. He was in the truck, his truck. It was dark and there were trees... He moaned; body tensing as he remembered the crash, swerving, the truck coming off the road, crashing through the embankment.
“Fuck... fuck... Steve?!” There was no reply and Christian’s stomach clenched. He shifted in his seat to face the passenger seat, shaking Steve’s shoulder gently. A soft moan was his answer and Christian released the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Steve? Oh God... Steve...Hey, darlin’, I need you to wake up, can you do that for me?”
“’m awake,” came Steve’s slurred reply although he didn’t move and Christian couldn’t tell if he’d opened his eyes or not. “Chris...” His voice broke with a groan. “The fuck happened?”
“We came off the road. Are you OK, are you hurt, can you move?”
The pained, guttural cry that came from Steve as he tried to move all but broke Christian’s heart.
“No,” Steve admitted softly when he’d caught his breath. He looked over at Christian. “I’m stuck. I can’t pull my ankle free and there’s something wrong with my hip.” He reached out for Christian, squeezing his hand. “Your head... Chris, you’re bleeding.” He wiped the blood from Christian’s temple. “How badly are you hurt?”
“I’m OK. My head hurts.” Christian snorted. “My everywhere hurts. Got a broken wrist.
“We’re screwed.” Steve exhaled sharply, smacking his head back against the headrest. “We didn’t bring our phones. We didn’t tell anyone where we were going. We’re in the middle of nowhere. It’s dark. I’m stuck. And it’s snowing. Fucking great.”
“We ain’t dead yet, son!” Christian snapped. “So don’t you go fuckin' givin' up me on like this, y’hear me?” He smacked the heel of his hand on the steering wheel, barely resisting the urge to hit Steve. “We came past a town just ‘fore we came off the road. I’ll get back there and I’ll call for help.”
Steve nodded and wrapped his arms around himself. “Yeah, ok,” he said; his tone clearly showing he didn’t agree with Christian.
“I ain’t letting you die out here, Steve,” Christian promised. He leaned over and kissed Steve gently. “Ain’t gonna happen, no matter how much you seem to think it is. You’re gonna be just fine. We both are.” He cupped Steve’s face in his good hand, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “I’ll be as quick as I can but I need you to do somethin’ for me while I’m gone. I need you t stay awake. Can you do that for me?”
“I’ll try,” Steve whispered. He shivered from the cold and Christian narrowed his eyes.
“Should have something blankets in the back. Gotta get you warm. Snow and night and shock, shit like that’ll fuck you up.” Christian fought first the seatbelt, then the door but eventually was able to climb out of the truck. The world swam as he stood up. He clutched at the door but his knees buckled, sending him to the ground. “Fuck, “he muttered, trying to figure out how the fuck to hold his wrist, stomach and head all at the same time.
“Christian! Fuck! Chris!” Steve yelled, panicking. He struggled again to free himself, all but screaming in agony from the pain in his ankle and hip. He doubled over his seat, fighting the urge to vomit. “Chris! Talk to me! The fuck’s going on? Are you OK?”
“I’m fine!” Christian called back. “Just a bit dizzy, that’s all.” Hanging on to the door, he pulled himself to his feet. Holding on to the truck, he grabbed the blankets from the back and handed them to Steve. “You try and stay awake and I’m gonna go see if I can’t get us some help. I’ll be back soon, darlin’, I promise.”
~El Fin~